"Have you known Ryan Lawrence for long?"
Ethan's fingertips burned with desire as they traced Sophia's skin.
The rough calluses on his palms grazed her bare back.
Cool flesh met scorching heat.
Breaths tangled in the darkness, ragged and desperate.
Ethan's mouth trailed lower, teeth grazing delicate skin.
Perched on his lap, Sophia tugged at his silk tie.
"If we're counting, Ryan knew me before you did, Mr. Sullivan."
She loosened the tie completely.
Her arms wound around his neck as she leaned down, voice husky yet commanding.
"Are you jealous?"
"...It doesn't matter."
His kiss deepened, turning savage.
Strong arms tightened around her.
Ethan worshipped every inch of her with his mouth.
Dark eyes melted into shadows.
"Sophia Sullivan, I only want you."
He rarely used her full name.
Always "Ms. Sullivan" in public—
Proper. Distant.
Except in moments like these.
Hours earlier in the bathtub, he'd called her "Ms. Sullivan" too.
Right before pleasure shattered them both.
Now the car seats confined them.
Her name sounded different on his lips—
Rough. Possessive.
Sophia felt the weight of his dominance.
"I only want you" could be a tease.
Or a confession.
Neither mattered.
Rain pattered against the windows.
The black sedan swayed gently in the storm.
Gardenia and bamboo mingled in the humid air.
When Ethan pressed closer, Sophia saw the fever in his gaze.
His breathing came heavy.
"Not here... No condoms."
Control frayed at the edges.
Sweat glistened on his back.
Every ragged breath betrayed his restraint.
Powerful yet disciplined.
Veins stood out on his tensed hands.
He lifted her thighs.
Sophia gripped his wrinkled shirt.
"There are some in the room."
Each word made her shiver.
"Comes with the villa."
The implication clear—
Ethan had prepared in advance.
Predictable yet surprising.
He rarely explained himself, but now muttered, "Community clinic samples. Barely use the villa. Forgot they were there."
His voice dropped lower.
Sophia might be his plaything,
But he refused to be careless.
Refused to hurt her.
That box in the villa held no ulterior motives.
Now his throat felt parched.
"Hold onto me, Ms. Sullivan."
Shrugging into his jacket, he carried her through the rain.
The empty villa welcomed them at dawn.
Every step pulsed with danger.
Raindrops chilled Sophia's shoulders.
The electronic lock clicked open.
Steam fogged the bathroom mirrors.
Warm water cascaded into the tub.
"Get in. Don't catch cold." Ethan ordered.
Desire burned between them,
Yet he kept his distance.
Forceful yet attentive.
A walking contradiction.
Sophia wanted to watch this disciplined man unravel.
"Box on your right. Sixteen inside."
She reclined in the tub.
Their reflections shimmered in the water—
Flushed cheeks.
Love marks blooming across her chest.
A game of cat and mouse.
Sophia held the bell.
One sentence shattered his control.
The mighty Ethan Sullivan knelt.
"Sixteen times? You'll be the death of me, Ms. Sullivan."
Clothes hit the tiles.
Broad shoulders. Narrow waist.
Every muscle defined.
Steam painted his skin pink.
Water sloshed over the edges.
Fingers intertwined.
A deep kiss.
Mist obscured their faces.
Only heat remained.